


Open Arms

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Lestrade, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Developing Relationship, Insecure Sherlock, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 16:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7582306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg shows Sherlock he can be cared for</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Arms

Greg was worried. Normally Sherlock haunted his crime scenes like a too-thin wraith. But it had been four days and no sign of him. He’d tried calling and there’d been no answer, so, after he finished up the day’s paperwork, he got in his car and headed to the tiny flat he’d dropped Sherlock off at once.

Knocking on the door, there was no answer, but then he thought he heard a noise. Glancing around, he tried the handle. It was locked, but when he heard the noise again, Greg took out the spare key Mycroft had given him and opened the door.

As soon as he stepped into the flat, Greg realized why the door had been locked. He quickly shut the door behind him and pulled his shirt up over his mouth, breathing slowly, despite the overwhelming scent of omega heat.

Shoving his alpha instincts aside, Greg moved deeper into the flat and found Sherlock curled up on a mattress on the floor of his bedroom, moaning as he fingered himself. Greg averted his eyes, but not before he noticed the damage on the younger man’s body. Still fading marks from the drugs; a few nicks and scars from probable fights. He shuddered to think what Sherlock’s heats had been like when he was still on drugs.

“Lestrade,” Sherlock said, opening his eyes. “Come to help?”

“You know I can’t do that,” said Greg.

“Please,” murmured Sherlock, in a tone Greg had never heard.

Greg closed his eyes and backed out of the room. “Hadn’t seen you, wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Sherlock gave a bitter laugh. “Biology,” he said. “Don’t you want me?”

Greg took another step back. “Ask me when you aren’t in heat, Sherlock. I can’t do this now. I’ll make sure Mycroft knows.”

“He didn’t send you?” Sherlock’s question was cut off by another moan, and it was all Greg could do take another step back.

“Nope, just hadn’t seen you. I’m leaving, Sherlock, I’ll lock the door when I go.”

“Really leaving? I can smell you want me.”

“Ask me when you aren’t in heat, Sherlock.” Greg all but fled the flat, locking the door with shaking hands before pulling out his phone to call Mycroft.

**

Sherlock showed up at a crime scene two days later. He was his usually acerbic self, and made no mention of where he’d been. But Greg noticed him looking at him, though the younger omega, being a little nervous, thought he was doing a good job of hiding it. 

When he finished, Greg gave some orders to his people and walked away from the scene. Sherlock was around the corner, leaning against the wall, smoking.

“Those will kill you, you know,” said Greg, accepting the cigarette he was offered.

Sherlock didn’t respond for a few minutes, contemplating some trash in the gutter. “Did you truly mean you’d take care of my heat?”

“Yeah, Sherlock, I would,” Greg lit it up. He really shouldn’t, but some days...

Sherlock took a long drag. “I’ll get tested before.”

“Yeah. Probably best you’re on birth control too.” Greg watched the way the street light struck his cheekbones.

“You’re attracted to me.” Sherlock threw away his cigarette butt.

“Yes,” said Greg. No point in lying, after all.

“You shouldn’t be,” said Sherlock, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking away.

Greg watched him go, London rain just starting drizzle on them both.

**

A week later, Greg was getting ready for bed. He stepped out of his bedroom, only to find Sherlock curled up on his battered sofa. Shaking his head, he walked over, nudging Sherlock so he could sit with the omega’s head in his lap. 

Sherlock curled up a little tighter, but relaxed as Greg carded fingers through his hair. Greg didn’t say anything, just stayed where he was until he felt Sherlock nod off. He carefully moved and picked up Sherlock, carrying him to bed, taking off his shoes and tucking him into bed before climbing in next to him and turning off the light.

**

Greg woke up in the morning to find Sherlock curled up around him. Greg kissed his forehead and got out of bed, making them both breakfast. Sherlock slouched in as he finished up, sitting at his dingy little table. Greg put food in front of him, glad that Sherlock was eating, his inner alpha glad that he could provide.

Sherlock never spoke, just got up and walked out as soon as he finished.

**

Over the next weeks, Sherlock wandered into Greg’s place more and more often. Greg made sure he had a key so he could quit picking his front door lock. Sherlock never said much, but he seemed starved for touch and would more often than not end up curled in Greg’s arms.

Greg tried to give him what he needed, letting Sherlock control the pace. It was Sherlock that initiated the first proper kiss, pulling the Inspector close as he came out of the shower. Greg smiled against him and rest his hands lightly on Sherlock’s waist. Sherlock let go, studied his face a moment, then went back out again.

The next day, Sherlock’s test results were on the table, along with a receipt showing that he’d picked up his birth control meds. Greg smiled and put his results on the table as well. It took a couple days for Sherlock to come back, but when he did it was late and he crawled into bed with Greg, kissing him deeply before curling up against his side.

**

The next day, Greg woke to a delectable scent. He rolled over and leaned into Sherlock’s throat. Sherlock moaned softly. “Yes. Please.”

“Let me just call work and let them know,” murmured Greg. “I’ll be right back.”

Sherlock grumbled, but let him get up. Greg quickly called work. By the time he came back, Sherlock was nude, looking up at him with hunger and a bit of wariness.

Greg smiled at him and slipped back into bed. “Still want me?”

“Obviously.”

Leaning down, Greg kissed him deeply, smoothing a hand up his chest. “Relax, Sherlock. Let me take care of you.”

Sherlock took a deep breath and relaxed under his touch.

Greg kissed him again, letting his hand skate down Sherlock’s thigh. “You smell amazing. Always have.”

“I know you have always found me attractive,” said Sherlock, looking up at him, swallowing. “You aren’t like most alphas.”

Greg nuzzled his throat. “I would never try to force you.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.” Sherlock spread his thighs, a soft moan escaping plush lips as a wave of heat washed over him.

Greg quickly stripped out of his own clothes. He moved between Sherlock’s legs and kissed him again as he carefully pushed inside. Sherlock wrapped his legs around him, nearly whimpering at the slow pace. “Please, please,” he whispered.

“Got you,” said Greg, raising his head to watch Sherlock’s face as he pushed in to the hilt. Sherlock gasped and rocked against him. “Breathe, Sherlock.”

Sherlock looked up and met his eyes, stealing Greg’s breath with how wide they were blown. There was something innocent in his gaze that made his heart twist. “Sherlock… you have done this before, haven’t you?”

Sherlock shook his head and tucked himself against Greg’s throat.

“It’s okay. It’s fine,” murmured Greg, starting to thrust. “I’ll make it good.” He ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair as he moved in him. 

Sherlock clutched at him, little noises falling from his lips.

Greg closed his eyes, not minding as Sherlock scratched down his arms. He breathed in the scent of Sherlock, thrusting harder, instincts telling him to take and claim and breed. He gave one more hard thrust and his knot popped inside. Sherlock gasped and came, going limp underneath him.

Not biting, Greg held him tight, murmuring softly in his ear, praising him as he followed him over, telling him what a good omega he was. When his knot slipped free he spooned around the younger man, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you,” said Sherlock softly.

“Anytime.” Greg held him a little tighter.

“You mean that,” Sherlock whispered.

“‘Course I do.” Greg ran a hand down his chest. “You really don’t believe anyone could care for you, do you?”

Sherlock shook his head and rolled over, tucking his head into Greg’s chest.

“Well I do. And I’ll be here as long as you want me.” Greg kissed the top of his head, heart aching as Sherlock fell asleep in his arms.

**

Greg stayed close through his heat, taking care of the waves when they came, and making sure Sherlock had food and drink and enough rest when they passed.

The fourth day, Greg went out to fix them dinner, and when he returned, Sherlock was gone, leaving the bathroom window open behind him. Greg frowned, worried that Sherlock would feel a need to escape like that, but hoped that the younger man would be okay.

**

Sherlock stayed away a week. He showed up at one crime scene, but left almost as quick as he appeared. Greg came home at night to an empty flat, painfully aware of the last lingering bits of the omegas scent, but also knowing that if Sherlock was keeping away, it was because he wanted to.

Finally, Greg was awakened at three in the morning by Sherlock standing anxiously at the foot of his bed. Greg sat up and reached for him, and with a tiny noise, Sherlock curled up in his arms.

Greg kissed him gently and tucked him in next to him, falling asleep carding his fingers through Sherlock’s hair.

**

When Greg woke again, Sherlock was straddling his hips, running his hand down his chest. Greg smiled up at him. “Morning.”

Sherlock met him with a tentative smile of his own. “You missed me.”

“Of course I did.” Greg cupped his hips. “I do like having you around.”

Sherlock leaned in to kiss him. Greg returned the kiss, one hand stroking the nape of Sherlock’s neck. Sherlock moaned softly and shifted so he could rest his head on Greg’s shoulder.

“I left you and I stayed away, but you still want me here,” said Sherlock. “But we’re not bonded, you don’t have to like me.”

“I know I don’t have to, and bonding is something we can talk about later, if you want. If you don’t want, that’s fine too. It’s all fine, Sherlock.”

“I believe you,” Sherlock whispered, nuzzling his throat. “Take me?”

Greg smiled and rolled them over. “With pleasure.”


End file.
